Willpower
by Vappa
Summary: Karl is a strong person. But when being forced into control by Reese, even the strongest minds can break. It only takes one memory. One-shot.


Lately I've been half-drowning in all the ideas I want to try, and somehow this one beat its way to the top and got promoted into an actual story. Probably because it's PSYCHO MIND-CONTROL WEIRDNESS, which I enjoy very much. In any case, this fiction is a one-shot written from Karl's point of view, during the time when he was being controlled by Reese and Specular. 

Also, don't expect me to follow the facts dogmatically. Oh no no, I've warped this to suit my own twisted ideas. The beauty of fanfiction, y'all. I'll shut up now and get on with it.

I do not own Zoids, Karl, Reese, little blue bugs or anything else related. I own Karl's mind though, at least this version of it. 

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**Willpower**

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Idiot. Didn't see that coming, not for a moment. Looking at it now, it was pretty obvious. Darkened base, hardly anyone around. The guards, all so . . . detached. I wonder if that's the right word for it. No matter. No doubt I'll find out _exactly_ what it's like in a few minutes.

She's circling me, muttering to herself. Or maybe me. I can't really . . . make out what she's saying. Trying to, but failing. Stop circling, it's making my head spin. Or is it? That shouldn't be happening. I don't get disorientated easily. I've got good balance, and it's not like I'm swaying. Can't sway when you're strapped to a chair. Unless the floor is moving, perhaps . . . No, wait, that's not right either. 

The organoid is there too. Beastly thing. I can't even look it in the eyes. It makes me . . . spiral. I hate that. I prefer to meet my enemies' gaze, let them know exactly where they stand and what I intend to do. Not this pitiful hanging-head routine. But I can't seem to look up anyway. My energy is going elsewhere. Maybe . . . maybe keeping myself sane?

I don't think it's working, if that's the case.

But maybe it's keeping Reese out. She's still wandering all over, talking to herself, or me, or the organoid. Someone. If she had me under control, she wouldn't be doing that. No, she'd be making _me _walk around and do things. Dangerous things. Things I don't want to . . .

Shit. Oh god, SHIT. My head. Poking, prying, burning. I get it now. She hadn't even _started _on me. What in the hell was the dizziness then? Was that . . . Specular? Some sort of preparatory . . . aaaargh. GET OUT! Leave me alone. You're not taking me you bitch. I saw what you did to the others. I heard about what you almost made Van do. You can't . . . breaking. Murmurs from somewhere.

_My, you're a strong-willed one, Colonel._

I can feel her. I can _feel _her mind slipping across the borders of mine, stretching out its tentacles. Digging for gaps, cracks, entry ways. She's infiltrating _my mind. _It hurts. Pressure, access, denial, slithering, darkness, repulsive, denial, request, denial, searching, denial, denial, DENIAL. You  aren't getting in! Get the fuck out!

_But the stronger they are . . ._

Am I still breathing? I'm gasping, but I can't feel the air in me. Shaking . . . oh god it's cold. Stay away from my mind. Colder, getting colder. Battles? Shooting, firing, screaming, laughter . . . maniacal laughter. No, no, don't remind me of that. Don't make me remember when he betrayed us. Shivering . . . _You aren't necessary anymore Colonel. You are . . .dismissed. _No! I don't _want _to remember that asshole! I don't _want _to remember the war! Get the HELL out of my BRAIN! Death on the battlefield, death in the palace . . . death hanging over my head. War crimes. Stop it! I can't see. It's dark. It's cold. Something's eating away my sense of self. I can't . . . I can't feel my hands. Still thinking though, still . . . flashing memories but . . . I'm still here. She mustn't have . . . not yet . . . headache . . . invasion . . . keep her out . . . deny her entry . . . oh. No. Stay away from those memories, you can't have them! What gives you the _right _to just . . . 

. . . _the easier it is to handle them, after they're broken._

Thomas? No, Thomas is older than that. This is . . . this isn't . . . not that day. I won the award and showed it to my parents. He was there too. I was so pleased. I couldn't see . . . barriers weakening . . . couldn't see how he felt. Didn't notice him leave. Was too wrapped up in my own self-admiration and the admiration of others . . . deny . . . overtaken . . . to see what was happening to another. But I saw him later. Later, when I took the award back to my room. I walked past his room and . . . cold to the soul . . . he was in there. I saw . . . I saw . . . 

_You're mine._

He was crying. 

_You were strong, Colonel._

He couldn't live up to the impossible standards I set.

_But I have broken stronger minds than yours._

He was so . . . broken.

_You're mine._

And I was the one who broke him.

. . .

Such coldness cannot be real. I feel it so deeply that I cannot even remember what warmth was. Or light. Did I ever see such a thing? All I can see is darkness. Feeling eludes me. There is nothing but cold and an endless spiral to nowhere. Locked into an eternal cycle of cold drifting from nowhere to nowhere. There are flashes of other things, but I cannot comprehend. They come too fast, leave too suddenly. Abstract images that I cannot understand, because they are not my own. They belong to another, and yet they belong to me. I don't know how this is so. It just is. 

Another flash. Was it sound this time? It sounded like . . . screaming. Familiar. But it has gone already. Endless night, endless winter, endless. Time? No. There is no "time" here. There is infinity or nothing. 

Flash. More this time. An image of . . . what. Is that a . . . Zoid? Wait. It's not leaving. I can still see it. And I know what it is. It's a . . . Di Bison. Yes, a Di Bison. But what . . . a shrieking cacophony slams through my mind and I scream in pain and confusion. And just as suddenly as it came, it's gone.

But more than that. I'm back here. Back where I belong, in control of myself. I think. It still hurts, my senses aren't working right. It's still cold. Shivering, I bury my face in my hands. Concentrate. One thing at a time. Work on hearing. Okay. I can understand the sounds now. The beeping and clanking tells me that . . . I'm in a Zoid. The Iron Kong. How did I get here? It's freezing. _Come on Karl, open your eyes. Stop being a coward._ For once I wish I would shut up. But I can see where that part of myself is coming from. 

The light is far too bright, and I screw my eyes shut again. But I feel something is urgent, so I'll try again. Slowly. There's an orange hue to everything. Okay, definitely the Iron Kong's cockpit. I can see that now. Still blurry but . . . I recognize it.  It's coming into better focus now. Through the cockpit shield I can see the Di Bison, trying to wrench itself up from the ground, but failing. Have I been fighting it? Wait. I look closer. Oh no. Not him. Why him? You goddamned bitch. If you've hurt him, I swear I'll hunt you down and tear you apart myself. The Di Bison isn't moving. Blinking back tears I fumble for the communicator. It takes me several tries to activate it, frustrating me to no end. But I manage it eventually.

"Thomas?" I call weakly, still shaking from the cold. "Thomas, is that you? Can you hear me?" There isn't any answer. Oh god, please. Please no. "Thomas, if you can hear me, please . . . fire your cannons." Maybe he doesn't believe me. Maybe he thinks I'm still her, using this body. "It's me, Thomas, I swear. Please." 

The tremors wracking my body won't allow me to talk anymore. I just have to hope . . . hope he can hear me, hope he believes me. Everything's still dizzying to look at. 

_BWOOSH. _Two white-hot light shots hurtle past me and crash into the wall. Oh thank god. He heard me. "I heard you, Karl," comes Thomas' shaken voice from the comm.. The Di Bison screeches as the torn metal strains to comply with his movements. "You certainly . . . cut it close there. You were about to . . ." Was I really?

"I'm so sorry Thomas, I didn't know. I couldn't see or feel or hear anything, and I . . ." There's terrific movement from the Iron Kong and it starts to advance. "What the hell?!" It's moving on its own! Somehow grabbing the control stick I wrench it back, but there's no response. "I can't stop it! It's moving on its own."

"Reese must still have control of it." Performing a wonky side-step, Thomas dodged away from the Kong as it charged for the spot the Di Bison once inhabited. "She's not very good at it though. Iron Kongs mustn't be her thing."

"Even so, you're in no condition to battle an Iron Kong!" I'm scared now. Thomas can't get away from this, his legs are too damaged and half his cannons are crackling and clearly not operational. He could still be killed. Killed by me, no matter how indirectly. I won't let my brother die because of me. I swore to myself I would stop thinking of myself as the center of the universe. There are far more important things in life than me. Thomas is one of them.

"Thomas," I call out, trying to keep my voice steady and firm. "Destroy the Iron Kong." There's a disbelieving and frightened cry from the comm. unit.

"I can't, Karl, you're still in there!"

"_That doesn't matter!_ You need to destroy the Kong, or it'll kill you and anyone else it comes across!"

"But Karl!"

"No, Thomas! Do it!" The Di Bison backs into a wall as I . . . or rather, the Kong, closes in. He's not going to die because of _me!_ I love him too much to let that happen! "Thomas, please! You have to! There's no other way!" All this shouting is making me dizzy and nauseous. I grip at my head again with my hands, unable to watch from both distorted view and fear. This is the end. Thomas is going to die at the hands of one of my "achievements", a Zoid modified for my needs. I don't care what happens to me. I just don't want anyone I care about to die. Not Van, not Fiona, not the Emperor.

Not Thomas.

"There is another way," Thomas focused voice breaks through my despair. I whip my head up, uncaring that it almost makes me black out. What is he doing? The Di Bison is standing again, head lowered towards the Iron Kong. Then he charges forward. This is it then. At least he understood this needed to be done. 

The impact of the Di Bison shudders through the entire Zoid and I reflexively cover my head and curl up. Shockwaves run through the control panels, and . . . electricity? I look up again, through the cracked shield. The Kong hasn't been destroyed. But, it isn't moving either. Straining, I manage to catch a glimpse of Thomas. His Di Bison's horns have punched right through the chest plates of the Iron Kong. He disabled it! The visual link is opened and Thomas' tearstained but relieved face appears on the screen.

"You gotta learn to have faith in my knowledge of machines, Karl." Of course. How could I have forgotten? The one thing Thomas had ever been proud of was his technological prowess. His only consolation against my so-called "brilliance". I force a weak smile onto my face.

"You're right . . . I should." Suddenly the dizzying state of my mind becomes too much. I can't hold it together anymore. I feel myself fall quickly into blackness, hearing Thomas cry my name before I lose consciousness entirely.

~*~

This cockpit won't open. Stupid damned thing! I kick it once, twice, three times, but it's still not giving. "You stupid piece of shit Perspex!" I yell out in frustration, then my gaze falls on the side of the Iron Kong's head. There's a long piece of metal embedded there. Feeling strangely savage I grab hold and pull it out, bit by ungrateful-bit. Finally it's out. Whipping it back, I swing it forward with all my might into the shield. I hope it's enough. I never was very strong. 

The shield cracked, and with the second blow shattered a hole in the side. Quickly I get down and pull the pieces of glass off the sides, not caring that I'm cutting myself every time. The hole is at last big enough to fit through and I squirm inside. I sit down on the control panel and grab hold of Karl. He's fainted, or something. I think. He's breathing still, that's good. I don't know what I would have done if he had . . . stop thinking that. He didn't, so don't bother wasting time on "what ifs". My sliced hand brushed against his own. God, he's freezing cold. Was this something to do with the mind control?

"Karl? Hey, Karl, come on. Wake up," I try, shaking him a little. No response. I shake him harder. "Wake up. You were with me a minute ago. Don't leave again. Come on, Karl." There's a low groan, and a shiver. I look up quickly to see his hazy eyes open, squinting. Well thank god for small blessings. He focuses on me and I give what I _hope_ is a reassuring smile. "Welcome back. I thought for a minute that . . ." I bite my lip and look away. Why do you always do that? Embarrassing yourself again. If it were Karl he wouldn't do that. Idiot.

"Thomas?" Returning my attention to him, I'm shocked at how pale he is. He's practically white, and shivering constantly. He looks at me vaguely and says "Do you remember when . . . I got that award?"

What a strange question to be asking right now. I shake my head. "You got so many. Which one d'you mean?"

"The black and gold one." Of course I remember that one. How could I not? It's still a memory I hate to remember, it's so stupid. Why did I let myself get so worked up over such a little thing? "I wanted to tell you . . . I saw you crying that day." I freeze. He saw me? "I saw how upset you were, and . . . I didn't do anything to make you feel better. It was really selfish of me and . . ."

"Karl, stop it," I mumble, knowing that I'm flushing as I speak. "It was ages ago, and you need help right now so . . ."

"No, let me finish. I want you know that I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never thought about how you felt. I was really self-absorbed and had no excuse. I'm sorry."

I can't believe it. He actually feels  . . . sorry? For just being himself, being the best at most everything? No. He feels sorry because by being himself, he was hurting me. Even though I took it all too personally, as another goal thrown in my way that I'd never be able to pass. I got over that a long time ago. Has he been caught up by that all these years?

Geez.

"Okay Karl. That's all right. I've grown up since then. You shouldn't be sorry for something like that. I took things to heart too much, that's all." He looked at me a while, then slid his eyes shut.

"I took it to heart as well, Thomas."

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Well, that was . . . different. I don't usually write first-person, so it's probably RIDDLED with grammatical errors. 

You're most likely wondering why I went into such strange territory with the mind-control. Frankly, because I've always been fascinated with stories that go in-depth with that sort of subject. I read a series of books based on mind powers, so that influenced me when I wrote this. I also have to admit I was taking a wee little bit of Evangelion into it as well, mainly from the infamous "mind rape" that Asuka goes through in episode 22. I added the coldness because I had some funky idea that when you're being mind-controlled, your body heat drops down really far. And, when Karl regained his senses, he had to sort of "recalibrate" them to his mind, after it being occupied by Reese. This is all entirely my ideas though.

Karl and Thomas are probably waaaaaay out of character. BUT WHO CARES? If you do, please let me know by reviewing. I like reviews. They make me smile.

- Vappa


End file.
